


Absolutely, Everything

by backintimeforstuff



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Episode: s05e01 The Eleventh Hour, F/M, Meanwhile in the TARDIS, Minisode: Meanwhile in the TARDIS 1, One Shot, The Eleventh Hour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:47:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24720295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/backintimeforstuff/pseuds/backintimeforstuff
Summary: There's not a single thing left in the universe between them and the adventure of a lifetime.An Eleventh Hour one shot.
Relationships: Eleventh Doctor/Amy Pond
Kudos: 5





	Absolutely, Everything

She's dreamt about this for as long as she can remember. Standing between her imaginary friend and a little blue box, the glade glistens in the twilight. He’s been in her life for so long now that Amelia Pond can’t even picture a time when she wasn’t waiting for him, waiting to see that future he’d promised her.

How on Earth did a swimming pool and a library even fit inside a funny wooden box? She’d concluded pretty quickly, within the first five minutes of sitting down to wait, that, this time machine of his must go on forever. Step through those doors, and, forget the whole universe, you could wonder through its corridors and see absolutely everything. Rooms upon rooms upon corridors upon staircases. She imagined it sort of shimmering, glowing golden and alive. God, she used to dream.

Fourteen years later, she’s trying to convince him she’s too old for all of that. But still he smiles at her, for the first time since she was seven years old. It’s the same smile, the one he gave her before disappearing, but this time, it’s him, not her, who’s asking her to see the stars. He cracks open the door with a snap of his fingers, and, she realises, as she looks in wonder at what little she can see, all those years ago, she was right. His little blue box does indeed glow golden on the inside, and, thinking back to the many years in which she discarded fairy tales, in that moment she decides, to hell with it all.

There’s a whole world inside this box, she’s always known that. But still she can’t believe what she sees. Everything seems so extraordinary, but so human at the same time. There are, like she suspected there would be, staircases leading off in every direction, some made out of metal and one out of glass. There’s white light, blue light, glinting, travelling, bouncing off shimmering copper walls. There appears to be a little bit of everything, from what she can see, seemingly randomly placed objects upon a console of golden yellow, a selection of taps, typewriters, levers, bells and buttons. She supposes he can do anything and everything by dancing around on that transparent floor, and as she gazes in complete majesty at this wondrous place of his, she’s just a child again, trying to step through a wardrobe into Narnia. This time, she’s made it.

It’s an unspoken condition, she knows, especially after Prisoner Zero, that if she follows him further into this world there will be nothing but danger. There will indeed be tricksters and ice queens, temptations and eye-widening battles. It’ll never be truly safe, not even in the slightest, but every story has its lion, and this one’s standing right in front of her. Bow tie and tweed, he’s looking at her with the deepest gaze; light eyes trained on her like the eighth wonder of the world. The copper starlight fading through them is enough to make her heart stop, and he peruses her irises with a fanciful smile.

In that ridiculous moment, she doesn’t know what to say. The prospect of adventure after all these years dawns on her, and, as practicalities go, wondering through time and space in a dressing gown doesn’t seem like a great idea.

_Come with me?_

She isn’t sure. She wants to run away forever and ever, see all the stars they can find, but if the danger doesn’t terrify her, the thought of him leaving her certainly does. He’s done it before, twice now, and she knows full well he can do it again. He’d look right in her eyes and tell her, like the last time -

_I’ll be right back._

She doesn’t believe that for a second. Even now, it’s like a punch in the gut she can’t quite run from, four words ringing in her ears like he’d spouted them mere moments ago.

But right now, of course, fourteen years later, her raggedy man is thinking about other things. Trust a time traveller to ignore the past – and even the future for that matter. He’s clattering up the staircase past jump-seats and switches, landing his hands on anything he can find. Anything and everything could happen to them in a blink of an eye, and he’d simply smile that wonderful smile of his, jaunting along to interfere and fix all kinds of little things that take his fancy.

He strolls around the circumference of his time-ship, staring up at the ceiling as if he too can’t believe it’s real. Remarking upon the possibly of a swimming pool in a library, and plenty of clothes tucked away in a wardrobe, he smiles. He’s playing with her, as if she’s still the child he first met, wondering through a wardrobe into a whole other world. She supposes it hasn’t been as long for him as it has for her. Five minutes can last a lifetime in the wrong hands, and she knows that more than anyone. She supposes it goes without saying.

Despite everything, she can tell he’s enjoying this. He’s got his brand-new ancient time machine, and he’s got the girl he’s come back for. The universe spills out of his pockets as he dances around and he catches her with a smile she can’t quite believe. If she’s mesmerised by him and his little blue box, then the entire universe is going to knock her off her feet.

She’s waited most of her life for tonight, and here he is, offering it right to her. She’s glad he doesn’t seem fazed by her, by the questions and the confrontation she throws at him, because he’s flipping levers on the console as if setting off into the stars is the most casual thing in the world. Her imaginary, raggedy man; he’s impossible, he really is.

When he’s smiled at her to last lifetimes, when the control room around them lurches, rising and falling in time to the rhythm of the universe, she’s beyond looking back. Forget the night before her wedding, if that’s what this is, this is the night he’s lived up to his promise, shown her he stars and all the stars of worlds beyond. Gazing at the detail on transparent glass, he’s like a madman at the helm of a time-bomb, flittering in and out just to stare in the face of danger. She knows all too well that he grins in the face of disarray, running headfirst into any kind of anarchy. He’s nothing short of unpredictable and downright insane, and well, she can’t take her eyes off him. She thinks they’ll make quite a team.

After a moment of silence, he turns to her, bright eyes once again filled with gold. He tells her all kinds of things; from fairy-tales, to other worlds, to promises and time machines. The one they’re standing in pulses just as enigmatically as he does, running ribbons around the rhythm of his twin heartbeats. He’s got his palm on the handbrake, entirely intent on calamity, seconds away from the beginning of everything she’s ever dreamt of.

He tells her that whatever’s out there; in all of space and all of time, through the mist of all the stars she can think of, that she’s barely started. The crooked smile crack in the wall of her bedroom is nothing more than the prologue – nothing more than a lamppost standing alone in a snowy, wooden forest. If anything, it exists only as a marker to bigger and better things; to wonder and starlight, haunting melodies and naturally occurring Christmas trees. Perhaps one day, it might come to symbolise something far greater than they can ever know; a tipping point for all creation, where darkness seems to descend. But of course, she’s not thinking about that yet.

What she is thinking about; in the midst of it all, is the way the stars seem to shine. Both in his eyes and in the promises he’s made her, even if he shows her a single diamond sky, one little glimpse of the universe as it is, everything will have been worth the wait. Throwing a final lever, he’s off, clattering down the staircase at the speed of starlight, asking her to follow him with a wry smile. It’s almost ironic, Amy realises, agreeing without a second thought, that it doesn’t matter what’s outside those doors, how damning, how dangerous - the answer will always be yes. Absolutely, yes.

His fingers slide over the door catch, and he asks her if she knows. Outside, well, there could be anything. There could be space-age battles or trees made from candlelight, Dark Age England or the whole of Britain on a spaceship. He’s looking at her like he’s never to look away, waiting; daring her to give in to him. She doubts the cosmos will let her do otherwise.

_Do you know what I keep in here?_

She’s seconds away from seeing starlight, and she knows it. Just one last push past the fur coats and –

_Absolutely, everything._

He lets the door swing open, and there it is. In amongst the blueness and the blackness of the cosmos, millions of stars are shining, glinting in the twilight they’ve found themselves in. Every planet in the sky glitters back at her, reflecting in her eyes like a never-ending kaleidoscope. Whatever she was expecting, literary fiction or otherwise, it wasn’t this.

He stands by her as she gazes on at the universe, humming in wonder as the stardust drifts silently by. It’s what strikes her the most in the end, the sheer silence of it all. Without making a single sound, the stars have her amazed, entirely and completely, and she knows now more than ever. Time and space exist for those who stop to look.

His hand on her shoulder, it’s the only anchor between them and all the stars themselves. She’s pretty sure that if he lets go, she’ll start flying, red ribbons scattered out amongst the twilight. Oxygen or otherwise, she’d die for the view and he knows it. She’s the girl with all the starlight, and giving up her life for one night in the sky, well, it’s hardly a fantasy right now.

As far as she can see, it’s glowing, pulsing, never-ending. As she gazes out from the foyer of a time machine, her imaginary friend leans past her with all the reality he can muster. The open-door beckons to the both of them, and right now, there’s not a single thing left in the universe between them and the adventure of a lifetime.

_Get out._

She doesn’t think twice.

In months and years, perhaps hindsight will get the better of her, taunting her through the dark about all the choices she made. Maybe one day it might corner her at the very edge of the universe and ask her whether it was at all worth it in the end.

She knows the answer will always be yes.

Absolutely, _yes._


End file.
